


sweetheart, i will possess your heart

by kingslayer (amurgin)



Category: Tales of Crestoria
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26170603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amurgin/pseuds/kingslayer
Summary: “Am I supposed to feel threatened? Because, if that is your intention—”“You’re still not scared? Not even a little?” Vicious teases a soft sigh out of him, combing the breath off of his lips with the swipe of his thumb.No matter how he spins it, Aegis knows he’s losing ground. The arm that winds around his waist holds him steadfast, but as Vicious tugs him up, pulling their bodies taut against one another, Aegis starts falling. His hands come up to grasp at the fringes of Vicious’ coat, desperate to get a foothold while his fingers bunch up the fabric, all to no avail. He’s already too far gone.Aegis finds his long-lost heart in the hands of Vicious.
Relationships: Aegis Alver/Vicious
Comments: 14
Kudos: 51





	sweetheart, i will possess your heart

_Love is the death of duty._

Years have passed since he first heard those words, time in which the face that authored them has long been lost. Committing them to memory, Aegis felt the shape of each syllable on his feverish lips, the weight of each sound in his throat as it settled his tongue. Still, theirs was a fleeting existence, like a ghost peering down his throat, fingers wound tight around his neck.

Under the oath of a prayer most sacred, Aegis exorcised the love inside his body. He sold his heart for a sword and his soul for a kingdom, renting out his body for something much bigger than himself. Back then, Aegis had truly believed that there was no grander cause. To die for glory, for eternal life lived within the lyrics of every bard's song—there could be no greater honour.

_Love is the death of duty._

It quickly became his mantra.

Right foot.

Left foot.

Again.

_Again._

But it was never enough. The corpses piled high enough to touch the sky, catching the attention of gods even from inside their fickle little heavens, and not once did Aegis spare a glance to look back upon that wretched vision he had helped enact.

 _That_ was his sin; written in blood and etched in bone, a prophecy first foretold all those years ago, _and he_ , the Fallen One.

_Love is the death of duty._

A hymn for every desire dead and buried in the innermost recesses of his mind. His heart is now a cemetery for everything Aegis has ever denied himself, in the name of honour, of fealty and allegiance for King and royalty. It is a memorial for the vestiges of that which he has lost, those which he has sacrificed, for a cause bigger than anything imaginable.

 _How foolish._ As though that could ever be reason enough. 

When Queen Rebecca lingers her hand over his own, fingertips faintly ghosting the lip of his knuckles, her touch transient like the flap of a butterfly's wings, Aegis reminds himself:

_Love is the death of duty._

She is the jewel of Medagal’s eye—loved by all, envied by none.

But to Aegis, she is infinitely more. 

Where _he_ is lost, _she_ is purpose. A direction to walk in, one step at a time, without ever needing to stop. There is no doubt in his mind when it comes to Queen Rebecca because, one way or another, Aegis will always find his way back into her chambers. Guided there by the melody of her tears, he will always be the one to watch her unravel beneath the moonlit sky. A dream, fragile and delicate, Aegis will watch her fade into nothingness; a winter's warm breath, January rain, gone in an instant, and he'll never touch her.

 _His_ fear will be the death of her.

Such is the love Aegis bears his Queen, without equal within this world. Of course, he doesn't quite realize that. Not until it’s too late, anyway. His own fingers find purchase in the blood spilled from her body, the same blood that singes his skin, stains his chest with shame, blood he’d been sworn to protect. If only he could wash it all away, but Aegis raws his skin beneath his nails, watches all of it turn red and still no luck. There is wickedness within him. For, if love is the death of duty, then duty can only ever be the death of love. Take both away and all that remains is just that.

 _Death_.

Aegis is by no means alone when he takes his vows before her, though _he_ , _alone_ , is the one to rob Queen Rebecca of her heart. Years later, it will occur to him that it would be a lie to say he never knew. She had trusted him, bearing herself open to him night after night under tight key and lock, and Aegis had listened. Ever-faithful at the foot of her bed, he'd lent her his shoulder to bury her cries in, bearing the damp tears like a secret on the inside of his sleeve, but had Aegis ever truly understood her?

 _“I hope, someday, you will also come to know true love.”_

Back then, Aegis had smiled, mirroring the small, uneasy quirk of her lips the best he could. There was nothing genuine about it, though, in his eyes, those little, white lies were a necessary sacrifice. He was a stranger to his own heart, that atrophying muscle Aegis had lost track of entirely, and a coward. How could he ever tell her that he would die just as he had lived? A loveless fool.

Now, he understands what it is that Queen Rebecca had meant back then. Surely, love would be the death of both of them. 

Needless to say, death isn’t what he expected it to be. 

  
  
  


Vicious makes it look so damn easy. 

And maybe Aegis has really hit rock bottom, or maybe he’s just gone mad because there is a part of him that burns red with jealousy. Here he is, running himself ragged on the rampart of everything he’s ever known, choking on _what ifs_ while Vicious gets to live, to _really_ live _._ He sleeps and drinks and fucks his life away one night at a time (though Aegis swears he isn't paying attention— _swears_ he doesn’t hear the creak of the window opening and he doesn't listen for the footsteps as they evanesce). 

Eventually, however, he gets caught. 

Red handed, fingertips still stained with phantom blood, Vicious catches Aegis dead in the act: stealing glances his way like a child fearful of getting caught. He might have always known, if that shiteating grin on his face is anything to go by, but Aegis is too far gone inside his own head to ever consider the possibility that he was never the one watching, that it was Vicious’ eyes shadowing each and every one of his moves. 

When their gazes finally meet, when Vicious trips him up and Aegis slips, it feels like an intrusion. All his skeletons are brought out into the open, skulls cracked, yellowed around the edges, and Aegis can’t bear to stare them down, too afraid of the maggots he’ll find lurking beneath.

Haunted by her lovely face, he runs away.

The knife hadn't been his, but it may as well have been his hands that stabbed it through, his fingers wrapped around the hilt, his betrayal that murdered her. Aegis doesn’t wait for the tavern door to close behind him before he’s halfway across the suffocatingly small village their party has made a home of for the night. Not even his shadow can keep up, stretching long and thin across the pavement behind. So, then, _why_? Why is it that he still can’t get away?

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” There is panic in his voice, fear that rattles the words inside his mouth. Aegis is all out of breath when he comes to a stop, but it doesn't stop him from spinning around, coming face to face with everything he's ever despised. His reflection stands out in Vicious' eyes. 

“Better than makin’ sure my precious comrade is feelin’ alright? _Oh,_ you _wound_ me.” 

Vicious' laugh rings loud and clear, distinct against the backdrop of the evening sounds. They're the only ones this far out, on the outskirts of the settlement, where nature and mankind meet in the middle. Fields of grain stretch far, a few small cottages and barns scattered across the horizon, but, aside from that, nothing else. 

“I don't need somebody like you caring about me.” He bites back, the words cutthroat. The smile that lines Vicious' lips comes up short, faltering back into a thin line. For a moment, silence dominates the space between them, and as much as Aegis feels relief, something is undoubtedly wrong. Irises set upon him, slowly darkening under the loss of light.

“ _Say_ , Aegis, do you get off on it?” 

“Huh—” The words sharpen against Aegis' throat, and Vicious carves him up with the way he's glaring. Never again would he live up to his name the way he did that night. Breathless, Aegis can do nothing more except stare and tremble.

“That queen of yours has been dead how many months now? Aren't ya being a little childish? It's not like you see Kanata or Misella mournin' themselves like that.” His voice lacks any empathy as he speaks, gaze cold, its usual fire turned to ice. Every bit of Aegis he grazes starts throbbing, burning as though frostbitten. “The way I see it, you must be a masochist, no?”

He's not wrong. _He's not wrong._ Aegis is an open wound, festering, and Vicious, the salted knife scrambling it up. 

“You don’t know a single thing about me!” But the hand he's suddenly got fisted inside Vicious’ jacket says otherwise. It shakes under the weight of a breath sharpened on the back of his throat like broken glass. His voice, too, comes out in pieces disjointed, shredded into ribbons along the way. Still, he struggles to get it all out, even under the pressure that rises to his face in waves, dyeing him red all over. “Don’t act like you know me!” 

“Don’t kid yerself. You think you're the first idiot I've seen guilt himself into an early grave? I know everything there is to know about you.” Vicious dismisses him with a rough laugh, the kind that makes his shoulders rise and fall in spasms. There’s no mistaking it. He’s mocking Aegis’ very existence. “There’s nothing special about you. Make yer peace with it.” 

That’s all it takes. Aegis spills over.

He’s not entirely sure that he meant to punch Vicious, but he’s not about to deny the ecstasy of the act. Something moves beneath his knuckles, out of tune with the rest of Vicious’ body when his neck twists to the side unnaturally. There is flesh, _yes,_ but there is also bone. And _heat._ On contact, Aegis' skin lights up, thunder ringing in his ears, lightning in his veins. He grows hot all over, an instant fever watering him down, down, _down_ until there is nothing left of Aegis, only white and a bruise in the shape of his fist flowering against Vicious' cheek. 

And he plays his part beautifully. 

The impact cracks Vicious up, quite literally when he bursts at the seams with a howl, doubling over low enough Aegis can see over his head. 

“Felt good, didn’t it?” Except, just that small admission, the realization that _this_ is what Vicious had been after the whole time, is exactly what Aegis needs to bring him back. He is overcome by terror, a cold sweat that breaks over him like a hailstorm. His feelings surge back up, thunderous in an entirely different way, but before he can turn tail and run again, Vicious is there to stop him. “Eye for an eye, and all that, right?”

With his laughter subsiding, his lip curls into something akin to a snarl, all tooth and danger. On instinct, Aegis steps back, but that’s just the opening Vicious has been waiting for, that sliver of fear peeking long enough for him to grab onto with open hands and _pull_. His hands come down onto Aegis’ shoulders, grip tight on his skin, and then Vicious swings a leg out before reeling it back in at just the right angle. Abruptly, Aegis’s world turns upside down when he falls backwards, slipping when Vicious knocks him off balance by pulling his ankles right from under him. It’s a hard fall when his back hits the ground, but then the added weight of Vicious straddling him with his whole weight is what hurts the most.

"Must be nice having somebody else to blame for your crappy life." Vicious doesn't hold Aegis down. He doesn't need to. Neither of them is going anywhere. Still, it feels _so good_ to be _so right._ That Aegis doesn't even try to push him away is like nectar to the gods, so much so that Vicious drowns with power. “If that’s what gets ya goin’, you can blame me all ya want. But make no mistake. It won’t be enough to make things right.”

Of course, he knows. 

Vicious is right, his words harsh, yet kinder than any act of charity Aegis could ever conceive of. It would be so easy for him to crack another joke at Aegis’ expense, for being hopeless, for being a fool, but he doesn’t, and that must mean something, too. 

Right?

“That’s not—” Aegis stutters helplessly. He’s gone soft, expecting Vicious to help.

“Ain’t it, though? You can lie to yerself all ya want, but don’t expect me to buy into it.”

This really is the worst. To think he’d be on the receiving end of a lecture, from the Great Transgressor, no less. Turns out there’s still plenty more ways Aegis can fuck up. 

“I can be anything you want me to be, _sweetheart_. Your devil. Your God. The filthy thing that keeps you up at night.” Unbothered, Vicious presses on. “All ya gotta do is ask nicely. How about it?”

It's not that simple. For Aegis, there is too much hurt to surrender so easily. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

He doesn't say anything.

  


"It's a pretty night to be messin' around."

Stepping into the room, Aegis doesn’t bother looking up. Vicious may very well be right, as much as it hurts to admit, but to allow oneself such small indulgences still feels wrong. _D_ _irty,_ even _._ They’re criminals. Even little Kanata and Misella, out sharing a room of their own, undoubtedly sound asleep by now. 

_A quarter after one,_ Aegis takes note _._ Time keeps ticking away, but they haven’t gotten anywhere. Tonight’s reconnaissance mission was a bust, in more ways than one. What a cruel irony then, that Aegis has to spend the rest of it in the company of the single largest plague (Vicious) to ever descend upon humanity. Aegis is by no means religious, but it’s something to be considered in light of recent events (See also: Vicious). 

"And yet here you are." If he were honest (which he isn’t), Aegis would admit that they’ve been doing better, the two of them. Instead, he tells himself that it’s _him_ doing Vicious a favour by entertaining him, and not the other way around.

"Only because you are." Of course, Vicious has his own way of seeing things. To that, Aegis can't help sighing. “I felt bad leavin’ you all by yer lonesome.”

"By all means, don't deprive yourself of any fun on my account." 

"Nah, I wouldn't _dream_ of bein' anywhere else." When he lifts the bottle to his lips, throwing his head back in a grand gesture before chugging half of it down, it almost feels like Vicious is extending an invitation. _Almost._ Telling him _no_ somehow feels impossible. _Yes,_ they’re doing better, but Aegis isn't any closer to unraveling the great mystery that is the so-aptly-named _Great Transgressor_. This might just be his best chance. 

Captivated by curiosity, Aegis makes his first mistake of the night. He takes a seat on the far edge of his bed, facing Vicious from what _should_ have been a safe distance away.

"Pity. I was quite looking forward to watching you make a fool of yourself in front of everybody."

"Were ya now?" At that, his face fractures into a grin that spreads from ear to ear. The tail end of his words curls into a hum while Vicious considers his next move with great care, and Aegis _should_ feel threatened by the glimmer in his eyes, but the darkness of the night has made him reckless. "You’ve been spendin’ an awful lot of time lookin' at me lately, haven’t ya?”

“Somebody has to keep an eye on you.” He doesn’t deny it, so it hardly feels like a win when, despite all odds, Aegis stands his ground, feet firm atop the wooden floorboards. Still, his gut tightens uncomfortably, perhaps on instinct or experience, but with good reason. 

“That a promise?” Vicious' voice lowers itself into a growl so deep it reverberates inside Aegis’ ears, unforgettable when its echo tarries for a little longer. “Or a threat?” 

“Neither, really.” 

“Aren’t you afraid though?” Vicious grins, all bark and no bite even when he flashes his teeth at Aegis, as though he might need some convincing that he’s bad to the bone no matter how Aegis turns him.

“Not of you.” 

“ _Oh~?”_ _That_ seems to get a rise out of him. 

In an instant, Vicious is standing, the legs of his chair skidding behind him when he pushes himself off of its seat. The sound is jarring, but Aegis _refuses_ to flinch, even as Vicious starts stalking towards him. His steps don’t quite sing as he walks over, but there _is_ a pep to his gait that Aegis notices before quickly dismissing it. 

It's easy to forget, easier still to pretend. Except for when it isn't. 

Vicious stops just short of where he’s seated, casting Aegis’ face in the sharp shadows of his body. He levels him with a stare, running the edges of his features with eyes like violets before speaking in whispers hushed.

“Maybe I should give you something to be afraid of, _hm_?” 

Even though his words perk up into a question, Vicious doesn’t wait for a reply. He makes good on his promise, laying his hand over Aegis’ cheek and drawing out the ghosts inside his body. The feel of it is an unfamiliar thing to Aegis, who melts into the touch, but only after surrendering a shudder that rattles the heart inside his chest. 

After all, Vicious isn’t one to disappoint. Aegis trembles in his hold. 

“Am I supposed to feel threatened? Because, if that is your intention—” 

“You’re still not scared? Not even a little?” Vicious teases a soft sigh out of him, combing the breath off of his lips with the swipe of his thumb.

No matter how he spins it, Aegis _knows_ he’s losing ground. The arm that winds around his waist holds him steadfast, but as Vicious tugs him up, pulling their bodies taut against one another, Aegis starts falling. His hands come up to grasp at the fringes of Vicious’ coat, desperate to get a foothold while his fingers bunch up the fabric, all to no avail. He’s already too far gone.

In Vicious’ grasp, Aegis becomes something else entirely, something beautiful, something worth killing. They’re going at this the wrong way, but for Vicious to find cause for murder in someone like him, someone like Aegis— _well_ , that, too, is a special kind of purpose. 

“I won’t ask again, so don’t leave me hangin’.” His mouth finds shelter inside the crook of Aegis’ neck, leaving him on his own to make sense of the haze that settles his mind. Vicious kisses him there, once, twice, again, _again._ To stake his claim, he works a rosy blush into the skin, flooding Aegis’ cheeks with a heat that permeates his whole body. “What do you _need_ me to be?”

A question to which all Aegis can do is swallow. An answer doesn’t come any easier now than it did back then, despite how badly he wants to figure it all out.

If Vicious intended for it to be a threat, then he’d been successful. His breath comes out hot on Aegis’ skin, and it only grows scalding with each passing second they spend in silence, each second Aegis can’t find it within himself to give him a straight answer. Bit by bit though, he grows smaller, weaker, and Aegis has to ground his body to stop himself from disappearing. His arms come up to weave themselves together in a wreath around Vicious’ neck, face turning to hide in the darkness of his hair.

It comes as a surprise when Vicious doesn’t come looking for him there. He entertains the quiet with a hum, filling up the space around them with a song Aegis does not recognize, all so that the soft sway of their bodies mustn’t come to an end. All the while, kisses flow endlessly down the pulse of Aegis’ jugular, matching rhythm with his heart. A slow dance with the devil.

Eventually, an answer _does_ come to him, but not the courage to give it a name of its own. 

“ _Vicious…_ ” And the grip around him tightens.

“Yeah. I got you, sweetheart. I got you.”

It’s a promise. _Oh_ , what a beautiful promise.

Like this, they’re perfect for each other, with Vicious kissing him silly, feeling Aegis melt into his touch, taking the shape of every little thing he isn’t. It's not something so complicated as love that pushes him to it. Vicious is, after all, a simple man. What really does him in is the lust of it. He wants to see Aegis come undone, with wrath, with anger, with love, anything to light him up like firecrackers against the pavement. 

Aegis inhales and it's Vicious that sticks to every part of him, sickeningly sweet. 

There is a certain kind of violence in the act. He struggles to hold air if only to let the memory of Vicious die inside his lungs. Instead, it's Aegis that gets all messed up. His cheeks light up like brightblaze beneath Misella's touch, tender and mild and so very dangerous in the wrong ( _or right_ ) hands. With each straying touch Vicious lays on him, Aegis breaks faith with everything he’s ever known, notions of love and duty, leaving behind only the slow death of his former self. 

“ _Fuck,_ you’re everything.” And it sounds like a compliment. _By gods_ , it sounds like Vicious really has him all figured out. 

  
  


In his hands, Aegis’ hair shines bright, and Vicious just can't get enough.

He scrambles to catch light, running the short length of each snippet again and again and _again_ , folding them over his fingers in ribbons of silver. His eyes follow the moonstream as it surfs the short waves, and just before it runs out, Vicious tightens his grip and pulls. There is so much more he wants to dredge out of Aegis, so much dirt Vicious wants to dig up. Maybe he’ll get lucky. Maybe there’s treasure beneath. 

It doesn’t take him long to find it, and even less to unearth it when Aegis makes it _so damn easy._

The flush that permanently settles his features paints constellations out of the freckles peppered over his cheeks. Submerged like that, in a galaxy of reds and pinks, it diffuses across his skin from ear to ear, and Vicious can't help chasing after it, hopeful on Aegis’ heels while undressing him piece by piece.

For his part, all Aegis can do is break. Vicious makes sure of that.

A little bit at a time, he surrenders himself to the darkness, growing softer with each layer shed. His head lulls to the side in a wide arc, leaving the carcass of his older self open to be picked apart—anything, _everything_ , just to find something worth loving. Leave it to Vicious to make the most of the least and the least of the most, though Aegis is no longer sure which category he falls into.

Surely, somewhere, beneath that same starry sky, lovers discover one another, and Aegis allows himself to pretend that they’re the same; that they're _not_ caught up in making a mess of each other, a killing floor for love and duty alike. Vicious won’t build an altar out of the memory of bones and Aegis won’t lay himself down for the sacrifice.

Imagine his surprise when Vicious doesn’t move to stop him. 

Aegis trembles a kiss upon his lips, chances a revelation meant for the confessional, fingers interlaced together with those dark tresses in a prayer so chaste he feels too guilty to utter, and Vicious doesn’t stop him. His hand is firm against the back of Aegis’ head as he holds him up, above the surface, so he can drown in the beautiful babble of their tongues entwined. Vicious won’t even hazard a breath, for fear of something Aegis understands all too well. 

They’re no longer playing pretend. 

_That_ is their little secret. So precious on Aegis' half-parted lips. Vicious can't help wanting to snatch it clean out of his mouth, to wrap his tongue around it and pull until it's all out in the open. He reaches to kiss Aegis back, coaxing breath after breath out of his throat if only to hear him betray that very justice he clings to so stubbornly. Except Aegis won't dare say anything, no matter how badly he wants to, and he does, _gods_ , he does. There are so many things he wants to say, anything to shatter the illusion, to get cut on the shards and bleed himself all over Vicious like _you don't even know how right you were about me._

It would be a blessing to watch him choke on his words.

Both of them lose air, however, adrift as they have become within the sea of each other. Aegis finds himself once more on Vicious' lip, in the space between his fingers, the way he grabs on and won't let go. No matter how far Aegis stretches, when his back arches off of the mattress, when his hands tangle inside the sheets, Vicious is never far behind. 

In his arms, Aegis finally forgets. 

**Author's Note:**

> Like a man possessed, I wrote this while desperately rolling for Summer Yuri and Zelos. Neither came home, but I _did_ end up catching a lot of Vicious/Aegis brainworms, so I guess that's. nice.


End file.
